


Messages for the Messenger

by Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness



Series: Messages Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Basically PWP, M/M, Prayer!Kink, Sabriel - Freeform, Teasing through prayer, grace!kink, tattooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness/pseuds/Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness
Summary: Gabriel's in an important meeting in Heaven and his hunter is distracting him.  For the GabrielSPNBingo square 'Teasing through prayer.'  I felt like writing smut, so this is definitely on the smutty side.  I refuse to apologize.





	1. Chapter 1

The messages kept coming at regular intervals. Thank Father Gabriel had been blessed with the ability to keep a straight face no matter what, or this meeting would be _waaaaaaayyyyyyy_ more interesting. Gabriel was sitting at a table in Heaven (not that there were such things as tables in Heaven, but it's easier to picture than a wavelength of a celestial place to park your ass at when you're larger than the average skyscraper) with the angels that were left. Castiel and Naomi were on opposite ends of the 'table,' and yet again Gabriel seemed to be playing monkey-in-the-middle to his siblings. Worse, they were actually deferring to him! He really had tried to get them past the notion that he should be in charge because he had more power than they did, but they were too set in their ways. Angels! They were worse than humans sometimes.

Right now, they were discussing the possibility of finding angels from other universes and bringing them to this universe to help power Heaven. Gabriel had mixed feelings about this, especially after faking his own death in the alternate universe and then making his way back to this one. He did think it would be fun to meet himself. On the other hand, multiple versions of Lame-o Na-o would send him straight into hiding again.

The messages were actually kind of a nice distraction, especially at first. The trouble was, they were escalating in a way that, while _interesting_ , was making it seriously hard (ha, he thought the word 'hard') to focus on the conversation in front of him. Worse, he was starting to worry that the sender would mess up, and accidentally send it to angel radio in general instead of Gabriel's own personal channel. Mind you, _Gabriel_ wouldn't really be embarrassed, but the sender would--especially if he found out that Castiel had overheard. And Sam would find out, because dear brother Cassie had all the tact and social graces of a speeding locomotive.

"Gabriel, who art in Heaven, please hear my prayer. I miss you, and I want to wrap you in my arms and tuck you under my chin, where your vessel fits so perfectly. I want to feel you against me as I run my hands up and down your back." 

"Gabriel, who art in Heaven, if you were here, I would gladly drown in those beautiful eyes of yours. I could look into them forever and they would sustain me like manna." 

"...I would kiss your lips so softly you thought it was a butterfly's touch at first and then gradually press harder and harder until our lips were swollen and red from kissing."

"...I would step away from you and take my clothes off oh so slowly, until you got frustrated and slapped my hands away and snapped them off so you could have your way with me." Gabriel repressed a snort--it sounded as if Sam thought that _he_ was the impatient one, which just wasn't true. 

Crap. Castiel had said something pointed, and he and Naomi were glaring at one another. Gabriel hadn't heard what Castiel had said. "Children," he said aloud, rolling the many eyes of his true form. "Let's _try_ to act like adults?" Castiel had the audacity to give him a wounded look, but they subsided back into discussing...whatever it was they were discussing. Gabriel wasn't sure anymore. He tried to focus on the conversation again, but the next message...well. 

"...Then, I would get down on my knees and worship you like the archangel you are, asking your permission before licking that one spot that drives you crazy over and over again. I'd take you in my mouth and suck you down as far as I could..." Gabriel shifted in his 'seat.' He would get Sam back for this, there was no doubt; the only question was when, where, and exactly how much he would have to escalate to make sure Sam _never_ did this to him again. Oh, sure, he was enjoying himself, but that didn't mean that retaliation was not in order. And yes, that sentence required the double negative...or maybe he was just starting to think with his downstairs brain.

Oh, Father, Sam was still going. "...I'm opening myself up for you right now, so that when you're done you can come down and slide right into me without waiting. I want you to fuck me, claim me, remind me that I belong to an archangel, that I belong to you. Oh, _Gabriel_ , I want to feel your thick cock inside of me..."

The archangel finally lost his precious control. "Excuse me," he said smoothly, rising from the table (ha, he thought the word 'rising'). "I have something I need to take care of on Earth." Castiel shot him a worried glance, but he shook his head. The Winchesters weren't in trouble...exactly. One of them, however, was about to learn the truth of the old saying--be _very_ careful what you pray for.


	2. Teasing through grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel gets even. A continuation of my previous fic that also fills a Gabriel Bingo square, **'Teasing Through Grace.'**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things. 1. Gabriel was watching them, so he knew when they were really in danger and when they weren't. 2. I'm not marking this dubcon because they're in an established relationship and Sam doesn't safe word (he has one), BUT--if you're not in a scene for which a safe word exists and your partner says stop, you stop. The end. 
> 
> Yes, I felt it necessary to write this note. No, I don't know what's wrong with me.

Sam thought it was over. He could _finally_ sit down again. Getting Gabriel's goat had seemed worth it at first, but it hadn't been. He'd expected most of the punishments Gabriel had doled out, but he had definitely NOT expected the archangel to tattoo 'Property of Gabriel' across his ass using a real tattoo gun--after getting consent, of course. Gabriel could've argued that Sam's desire for him to 'claim him' had included permission for the tattoo, but...well, angels were big on consent. 

Sam and Dean were out on a case with Jack; Gabriel and Cas were once again in Heaven. Sam thought the case would probably turn out to be a simple salt-and-burn, once they figured out exactly what connected all the victims and who the vengeful spirit was. Right now, they were trying to determine the former via a conversation with a bereaved widow who apparently didn't believe her late husband had done anything wrong in his entire life. Sam could tell Dean was getting bored and was about to ask something that wasn't particularly tactful, so he decided to head his brother off at the pass. "Mrs. Stillwater, I really need you to--" He interrupted himself with a yelp and leaped up off of the couch where he was sitting when he very distinctly felt a finger trace over the words of his new tattoo. He looked behind him, but of course there was no one there except for Dean and Jack, neither of which were touching him. Dean had a hand on his gun and was looking around for the threat. Jack was looking up at him, bewildered. They _really_ needed to work on the kid's reflexes. 

Sam cleared his throat. "Uh...I'm so sorry, Mrs. Stillwater. Something I ate must have disagreed with me. May I use your restroom?" She pointed him toward it, looking just as confused as Jack. "Thank you," he said, and made a beeline for it, helped along by the phantom hand, which had grabbed his ass and _squeezed._

Hurriedly shutting the door behind him, he turned on the water to cancel any noise. "God damn it, Gabriel!" he hissed, looking at himself in the mirror. "I know this is you!" Ghosts could be handsy, but they wouldn't know exactly where the tattoo was. Probably. Unless it was a ghost who had died getting a tattoo. When a second phantom hand started to run up his torso, he growled, but closed his eyes. "Dear Messenger of God," he prayed under his breath. " _I am on a case_. Dean nearly shot someone. Stop it!" The pair of hands did just the opposite of stopping; one focused on a nipple and the other reached around him to stroke his length. His pants were suddenly uncomfortably tight. "Damn it, Gabriel, _please!_ " he begged. 

The hands vanished. He opened his eyes to look at himself in the mirror. His face was flushed, so he splashed some water on it as he tried to think of disgusting things (like his father having sex) to lower his arousal. He finally managed it, and opened the door only to find Dean had come after him. "You okay, man?" his brother asked. "Find something in there?"

"No," Sam replied with a shake of his head. "No, I just--I don't feel well, okay?"

Dean raised his eyebrows; the boys hardly ever got sick. "Uh...okay. You want to go back to the motel?"

"Uhhhh...no, but I think I'll go wait by the car. Just be nice to Mrs. Stillwater," Sam poked at Dean's chest with his finger. 

"I'm always nice. Anyway, she and Jack are probably comparing puppies and rainbows right now," Dean retorted, smacking Sam's hand away from his chest. "Can't get any nicer than that."

Sam scoffed at his brother, and then made his way outside. It was cool but not cold; winter was clearly on the way, but not here yet. He leaned on Baby and tried to continue calming down. It worked for a few minutes, but then, without warning, the hands were back--and picked up exactly where they had left off. "Fuck!" Sam gasped. "Gabriel! Stop it!" When the grace-fueled hands continued their assault, Sam rolled his eyes. "O Messenger of God who art in Heaven, knock it off!" Nothing--if anything, the hands became more insistent. Sam reddened as he heard the door start to open, and he hurriedly turned his back to it. "Damn it, Gabriel! _Stop!_ " Still nothing. Sam heard Dean and Jack approaching the car. " _Please,_ " he begged. This time, the hands disappeared. He adjusted himself, and climbed into the car before Dean or Jack could get a good look at him or ask any uncomfortable questions. 

It happened several more times; Sam learned pretty quickly that Gabriel would only stop if asked nicely--and he never stopped for long. Sometimes the hands would only rifle through his hair or rub circles in his back, but sometimes they were every bit as forward as they had been when he was on his own out by the Impala. The hands did leave him alone while the three of them dug up, salted, and burned old Mrs. O'Connor, for which Sam was grateful--she had been a witch and was a bit more creative at dissuading the boys than most other ghosts. He should know by now; nothing was ever simple. 

Of course, as soon as they were back in the Impala, Gabriel's magical hands were back on him. Sam just grit his teeth and bore it; he knew the only danger now was embarrassment. They went back to the motel and cleaned up (the hands had a great deal of fun with him while he was in the shower), and he pleaded food poisoning to get out of a late dinner and drinks with Dean and Jack. As soon as they left, he threw himself down on one of the beds, laying on his side as the ghostly hands ran up and down his chest. 

Suddenly, Sam felt the bed dip behind him, as if something had settled there. He startled, but the pair of arms that was around him kept him from going too far. "...Gabriel," he surmised, before rolling over to make certain that it was, in fact, his boyfriend on the bed behind him. 

"In the flesh. Miss me?" Gabriel's golden eyes sparkled. 

Sam bit back what he started to say, and took a few deep breaths. What had been about to come out of his mouth would only make the ride home that much more uncomfortable after he'd been turned over Gabriel's knee. "...I'm sorry," he muttered finally. 

"For?" Gabriel had the nerve to raise an eyebrow. 

"...for sexting you via prayer," Sam half-groaned. 

Gabriel snickered at the term, but leaned forward to press his lips to Sam's. "I forgive you," he said simply. "Now, if you ask _reeeeeeaaaaalllllyyyy_ nicely, I _might_ think about staying for an hour or so." 

Sam stopped himself from rolling his eyes, which would just have landed him in more hot water. "Oh Mighty Archangel Gabriel, would you _pretty please_ do me the honor of gracing me with your presence while Dean and Jack eat dinner and ogle waitresses?" 

"Hmm." Gabriel leaned in to kiss Sam, going deeper this time. "Keep that up," he murmured against his lips, "and I think I just might."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at @Masterpieceofturkeycleverness!


End file.
